


better to have loved and lost

by izayoi_no_mikoto



Category: Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hanahaki Disease, Loved and Lost, Memory Loss, Nonnies Made Me Do It, Wishes, excessive cherry blossom imagery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-22 00:53:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13752822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izayoi_no_mikoto/pseuds/izayoi_no_mikoto
Summary: No child can catch the flower disease, they say.  After all, a child can only have a child's love, and that is hardly any love at all, they say.That is what they say, but Syaoran knows better.





	better to have loved and lost

**Author's Note:**

> Hanahaki Disease _(lit. "Flower-Vomiting Disease")_ : A disease caused by feelings of unrequited love or attraction. The disease is characterized by the parasitic growth of flowers or other plant life in the heart, lungs, and/or stomach and is diagnosed by the emission of plant life upon coughing and/or vomiting. Other symptoms include nausea, stomach pain, shortness of breath or difficulty breathing, sensations of choking or gagging, sore throat, heart pangs or palpitations, and vomiting or coughing blood. The disease can naturally resolve itself if 1) the patient's love or attraction ceases, or 2) the patient's love or attraction becomes requited; either situation deprives the parasite of its natural sustenance of unrequited love and thereby starves the parasite to death. If the parasite cannot be eradicated by natural means, it can be surgically removed. Side effects of surgery may include permanent breathing difficulties and scarring to lung and heart tissue, as well as the loss of prior feelings of love or attraction, loss of memories related to the former object of affection, and inability to form future love or attraction. Failure to eradicate or remove the parasite results in increased difficulty breathing, permanent heart damage, and eventual death by suffocation or cardiac arrest.

 

[Part 1: Love]

Children never caught the flower disease.

Adults looked on, nostalgia buried somewhere in their twinkling eyes, as they watched children in the throes of puppy love.  They called it different things--puppy love, a crush, infatuation--but no matter what they called it, it was always the same thing in their eyes, something cute, simple, shallow.  No child could catch the flower disease, they said, because a child could only have a child's love, and that was hardly any love at all.

But Syaoran knew better.

When he'd first met the princess, he'd been blinded by her--by her pure heart, her spirit, her kindness, her love for all things that lived and breathed and grew.  Sakura was beautiful in all ways a person could be beautiful, and she opened him up and brought sunshine and glory to his life in a way he’d never imagined possible.

He'd loved her since the beginning.  To be fair, in the beginning it had been the childish love that adults found so charming, and innocent, and harmless, and false.  He had not caught the flower disease because his love had been a child's love.  But he was older, now, and his love was too.  And every time he said her name-- _Sakura_ , the most beautiful of flowers--her eyes sparkled and her smile grew even warmer, and the swelling in his chest was no puppy love.

His Majesty performed outrage and the High Priest smiled indulgently, but what they refused to see, Syaoran knew.  Syaoran was young, but no matter what they thought, he was no child.  His love was not a child's love, not anymore.  The reason he didn't catch the flower disease wasn't because his love was insufficient, or immature, or untouched by the struggles and sorrows of real love.  It was because Sakura looked at him the way he looked at her, and even though neither of them ever said it, even if nothing could ever come of it, he knew.

Syaoran loved her, with a love as full and true as any love could be, and no flowers took root in his heart.

 

  
[Part 2: Loss]

"I can grant your wish," the witch said.  "But there will be a price."

"I'll pay it," Syaoran said.  No hesitation, no second-guessing.  "Whatever the price is, I'll pay it."

Anything to save her.   _Anything_.

"You must sacrifice that which is most important to you," the witch told him.

Syaoran clung Sakura closer still.  Even in unconsciousness, her brow was furrowed, as though in pain or sorrow.  Her cheeks were pale, and her body was cold and growing colder still.

"Anything," he said.

"And I cannot bring her memories back for you," the witch added.  "I can send you to other worlds, but finding her memories is something you will have to do."

"I'll do it," Syaoran insisted.  "I'll do anything."

On either side of him, the two strangers stared.  The witch gazed at him, too, her expression inscrutable.  "You realize that I haven't told you what the price is."

"I'll do it," he repeated.

For a long moment, the witch was silent.  "Your relationship," she said at last, her voice soft but unbreakable.  "The thing you value most is your relationship with her, and so that is the price you must pay.  The relationship you once had with her will forever be gone.  Even if you recover all her other memories, she will never regain her memories of you.  That is the price I ask.  Are you willing to pay it?"

Syaoran's eyes widened.  His heart thudded in his chest, its beat roaring in his ears.  He tried to hold Sakura gently, securely, but his hands trembled.

Sakura wouldn't remember.

She wouldn't remember him.  She wouldn't remember when they'd first met.  She wouldn't remember telling him to call her by her name, or the birthdays they'd shared, or the way she always came to greet him when he returned from an expedition.  She wouldn't remember him.

Syaoran squeezed his eyes shut, his back bowing and his teeth gritting.  She wouldn't remember him.  Her memories of him, of them, would be gone, escaped like so much dust into the universe.  But in exchange, he could save her life.  They could forge new memories together, and if he was lucky, one day she would again offer him that smile, as warm and brilliant as the sun.

Syaoran swallowed and raised his head.  "I'll go," he said again.  His voice was hoarse, but determination burned hot in his chest.  "I will not let Sakura die!"

The witch studied him with narrowed eyes.  She was something ethereal, otherworldly, beyond comprehension.  When she nodded, there was something unidentifiable in her gaze.  Admiration, perhaps.  Or perhaps pity.

"Very well," she said, and she raised her hand.  "I accept your payment."

Agony struck him blindsided, as sudden and sharp as a knife to the chest.  He tried to gasp but couldn't.  Something crawled inside him, soft and fluttery, filling his lungs and catching at the back of his throat, and he gagged and hacked and heaved, one hand clapping over his mouth--

And into his palm tumbled wads of petals, a beautiful pale pink, slick with saliva and speckled with blood.

Syaoran coughed and retched until his throat threatened to rend and the petals spilled through his fingers and down onto Sakura’s limp body.  After an eternity, it stopped; finally, mercifully.  Syaoran gasped out rough, ragged breaths and stared at the flowers, his mind curiously empty except for echoes of the princess's voice.

_Don't call me Princess!  Call me by my name!_

"Sakura," he whispered, light-headed and dazed.

His hand was filled to overflowing with cherry blossoms--the most beautiful of flowers, and the most short-lived.

**Author's Note:**

> (inspired by the prompt: 100 words of flowerchoke sadworld)


End file.
